The Strange Case of Dr Beckett and Mr Bombaboy
by jesscz
Summary: ...for all your criminal demolition needs.


The Strange Case of Dr. Beckett and Mr. Bombaboy  
by JessC

Summary: ...for all your criminal demolition needs.

A/N: Inspired by, of all things, an Inspector Gadget movie for which Paul McGillion voiced Bombaboy. Written for fannish pleasure only.

"Still working, are ye Rodney? And just what mad scientist are ye playing at today?"

"Quiet," McKay made an forceful shushing motion in Beckett's general direction by the door, not bothering to look up from the spaghetti mess of fiber cables arrayed before him. "This is very sensitive work you're interrupting. And at least this is science and not your rattle-shaking... Shit."

McKay shouted a warning, gesturing in futile desperation as sparks started flying. He ducked as one bolt struck a panel next to him. Then stumbling back, he watched in horror as a blue-white bolt of energy licked out to touch Carson, racing through him as it jumped its way to electron-balancing freedom. The charge lifted Beckett, throwing him hard against the wall. Stunned and with legs refusing to hold him, the physician slid bonelessly to the floor, white lab coat hitching up as it was trapped against the wall.

Rushing over, McKay dropped to his knees beside the fallen man. With eyes open but not quite focused, Beckett looked...shocked. McKay reached out a steadying hand as Beckett moved fitfully, trying to regain control of his limbs and failing miserably. The doctor tilted, threatening to slump into an even more undignified heap.

"Woah! No, no, no. Upright. Carson, are you okay?" McKay caught Beckett's flailing hand, tugging him back into a sitting position. This time the doctor stayed.

"Oh, crap."

"I take it that's a yes?" asked McKay, relieved at the characteristic response.

"Aye. The room's birlin round a bit, but I'm fine." Beckett blinked and took a few deep breaths. He looked at the mass of equipment scattered through the lab, finally focusing on the mass of metal, spikes and wires, the source of his, uh, current predicament. "Rodney, what is that thing?"

"My latest project for again proving Kavanaugh is an incompetent idiot. The man calls himself a scientist when he couldn't even get a clue even if they were handing them out free." McKay sat back on his heels, relieved to find his friend seemed to be pretty much unharmed, new radical hairstyle aside. "My turn. What are you doing here?

"Dinner."

"Huh?"

"You missed dinner," Beckett tapped a finger heavily against the large faced watch on his wrist. "We were supposed to meet a half hour ago."

"I was busy." McKay looked offended at the look Beckett gave him. "What? Some times my genius will not be denied. Not even for meals."

The look didn't soften. Time to change the subject. "You sure you're okay?

Beckett refused to be distracted. "I would have been if you had showed up like you were supposed to."

"Hey, I'm sorry, all right." He held out his hands in gentle restraint as Beckett started to move his limbs with more control, looking as if he was ready to stand. "Should you be doing that? You sure you're okay? I can't carry you, you know. Injuries could result."

"Yes, I know what I'm doing. And no, you're not going to carry me. Just make yourself useful for a turn and help me up."

McKay raised an eyebrow.

"Now. Rodney."

"Jeez, touchy aren't you. Excuse me for wanting to make sure you're okay." Standing, he grasped Beckett's wrist and hauled the doctor to his feet. He had to steady him as the man stumbled and swayed.

"That's it. You are not okay and you," he made a grab for Beckett's arm when it looked like the man might collapse again, "are going to the infirmary and so getting checked out."

"I'm fine," Beckett protested, twisting and trying to break free has McKay hustled him down the hallway. "Just let me go to my room and rest."

Rodney tightened his grip on Carson's arm. "No, you aren't. 'Any injury must reported to the infirmary.' By order of one Doctor Carson Beckett, MD." He pulled the protesting doctor through the doors into the infirmary and the waiting arms of its voodoo practitioners. "I gotta. You gotta."

Two hours and a handful of minutes later, Carson was scowling at McKay as he finished tying his shoe laces. "See? I told you I'm fine. No burns, no cardiac arrhythmia. Nothing's wrong with me."

"Your hair is still looking like Sheppard's on a bad day."

"Rodney!"

"Carson," McKay mimicked Beckett's tone, minus the accent. "Don't get pissed at me. I was just following doctor's orders. You would have yelled at me if it had been anyone else."

"You are the one always getting me into trouble."

Their rising voices had the on-duty medical personnel looking their way. McKay noticed. "You had better chill, Carson or your minions are going to keep you here."

"I have colleagues. You have minions. Besides, they wouldn't dare," Carson grumbled, grabbing his jacket from off the infirmary bed. "I'm leaving." He hurried out of the treatment area before his staff changed their mind on his release.

Caught by surprise at the haste of his friend's departure, McKay rushed to keep up. "Hey, you're not still mad at me, are you?" His answer was in the strength of the blue-eyed glare. "I said I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you. I'll buy you dinner."

"Buy? We don't buy our meals. Besides, you're daft if you expect me to be hungry after all this."

"Breakfast tomorrow then? I promise to be there."

True concern was plain in McKay's voice. Beckett found himself relenting, knowing the man really was apologetic and not wanting him to become apoplectic. "Breakfast will be fine, Rodney.

McKay had never taken Beckett as one to play tit-for-tat, but it was now half an hour past their agreed upon meal time and the Scot still had not arrived.

"Hey, Biro, you seen your boss this morning? Short guy, has hair. Talks funny."

"Dr. Beckett?"

"Yes, Dr. Beckett," McKay rolled his eyes. "What, you don't know who they are when they're alive."

"No, I haven't seen him." McKay raised an eyebrow and peered at the pathologist, not sure if his barb ignored or if it actually didn't register with her.

"He's not due on duty for," she checked her watch. "Another hour. After the morning meeting."

"I know that. We're in the same meeting. But he wasn't at breakfast."

Biro looked at him as if to say 'And your point is?'

"Never mind. Go poke at whatever dead things you poke at. Like last night's leftovers." Scowling, McKay turned on his heal and left, muttering. "He's probably already at the meeting, laughing his ass off cause I'm off looking for him."

McKay's mood soured further at Weir's stern expression when he entered the conference room.

"Dr McKay, how kind of you to join us this morning."

"Yes, yes. I'm late." McKay said impatiently. "If you must know, I stopped by the infirmary to find Carson."

"So Dr. Beckett's on his way?"

"No, I thought he was already..." McKay stopped and looked around. "Where is he?"

"We expected he'd arrive with you."

"He didn't... he wasn't..." Scowling, McKay tapped his ear piece. "Hey, Carson? You can stop counting sheep now. Wakey, wakey." There was no answer. "Carson?"

"Rodney?" Weir asked. She and Sheppard were were watching him with interest.

Ignoring them, McKay started pacing. "This is so not good," he muttered. "They said he was ok..."

"Rodney?"

His pacing continued. "But what do they know? What if their rattles were broken? Maybe that shock..."

"McKay!" Sheppard barked.

Rodney jumped, startled. "What?!"

"What the hell are you talking about? Where's Beckett?"

"I'm, uh, not sure. There was, uh, an incident in the lab yesterday. But I made him go to the infirmary. Like he's supposed to. Biro said he was okay."

"What incident?" demanded Weir. "Which lab?"

"When did you last see him?" was Sheppard's question.

"Yesterday evening after Biro released him. He said he was going to his quarters to rest."

Sheppard was on his feet. "Let's go."

"Yo, Doc! You in there?" Sheppard called out, ringing the bell, then knocking on the door to Beckett's quarters. McKay was a little more forward, kicking the door with a good solid thump. "Carson! Wake up!"

As with the earlier radio calls, there was no answer. Frowning, Sheppard thought the door open and entered, McKay beside him.

"Carson?"

A quick search of the quarters showed them empty, though the bed linens were in disarray. Clothes were strewn across the floor.

"I never took the Doc to be the messy type." Sheppard said, taking in the chaos.

McKay did a quick check in the bathroom, "He's not."

Sharing concerned glances, Sheppard tapped his ear piece. "Elizabeth, his rooms are empty. Looks like he was here last night, though. Tell Bates to start a search."

A frustrating and worrying hour had passed by searching the obvious places. They were well into searching the less obvious places when the call came in.

"Major Sheppard?" Bate's voice sounded oddly stressed.

"Yes, Sargent?"

"I found him, sir. Chem Lab 6." High-pitched giggling came across the radio, a totally unexpected background for Bates' words.

Sheppard and McKay exchanged looks.

"Please put that down, Doctor Beckett. I don't think you should be doing that." Bates voice lost volume as he apparently spoke off mic, then came back louder. "You better get down here sir." The high-pitched giggling came again. "Hurry, Sir. Please."

Please? From Sargent Semper-Fi, Oorah!, Give 'em the industrial sized can of Whoop Ass Bates? That Bates?

Sheppard and McKay took off at a run.

Skidding to a halt just inside the lab, they could see the Marine through the open door. The man had his weapon secured. His arms were out, palms down as he made motions intended to calm whoever he was talking to. It had to be Beckett.

But the voice that answered?

The pitch was wrong, too high and too nasal. And the accent had thickened into something from south of the rough end of town. Sheppard and McKay stepped further into the room.

"Dammit, we've been looking all over for you. Just what are you into, Car..." McKay stopped dead, his voice rising to a astonished squeak. "...son?"

Beckett was standing at a table laden with an assortment of bottles, beakers and boxes. Clutched in one hand was a beaker of something florescent green and bubbling, with just a little bit of smoke coming out the top. The other hand held a bottle of a clear liquid. He was carefully decanting some of the clear stuff into the beaker.

That tableau was totally bizarre enough on its own. But what had McKay speechless was Carson himself.

The doctor was wearing his usual lab coat and hiking sneakers. But gone were the grey shirt and cargo pants. Instead, it looked like the pants had been unwillingly cut into shorts. The grey tee had been replaced by a bright purple one that must have come from the left over pile from the cast off section of the 2nd hand clothes section of a Glasgow alley market. And he was wearing the most god-awful pair of purple sunglasses under all the suns in the Pegasus galaxy. McKay really did not want to know where those came from.

Overall, the effect definitely screamed scientist gone mad. McKay just stared, impressed.

The sharp nudge of an elbow into his side broke his stupor. "Well, go ahead," Sheppard whispered. "Do something."

"Why me?"

"He's your friend."

McKay glared back. "And he's not yours?"

"This has got to be an after effect of the lab accident. You got him into this. You get him out."

"Coward," McKay muttered loud enough for Sheppard to hear. Then taking a fortifying deep breath and steeling himself, he took a step forward. "So Carson, we've been looking for you all over Atlantis."

"Ehh," Beckett paused from his careful measurement of the liquid to look up. "Don't know what yer trouble is, lad. I've been here all morning."

"You didn't show up for breakfast or the morning meeting. Elizabeth was concerned."

"The lass worries too much. And I've been busy." He peered at McKay, "'Bout time ye got here. Thought I'd have to do all this mysel'"

"Well, I'm here." The forced casualness wasn't going to work. McKay had not gotten his coffee this morning, and he was feeling distinctly grouchy. He so did not need this. Eyes narrowed, he peered at the bubbling green goop. "Just what the hell are you doing?"

"what does it look like, Rodney? I'm building a bomb." Beckett grinned one of his patented dimple-revealing grins. The eye glasses though, somewhat dampened the effect. "As in ka-beum."

McKay and Sheppard gaped as Beckett giggled. Bates just winced.

"Bomb?" McKay asked.

"Aye, ka-beum. To use against the Wraith. Or which ever baddies of the month decide to be comin' after us. That research of yours gave me the idea," He shook a beaker vigorously, ignoring Sheppard and Bates as they stepped back in alarm. "So are you gonna help me, Rodney? Or are you gonna just stand there like a great lump?"

"Carson, I really don't think that's a good idea." Grouchy was very efficiently turning into panic.

"And why not? I thought ye liked building bombs."

"Yes, well, when I was in sixth grade. But this?"

"It's not that hard, really."

"You're a doctor, not a scientist." Three looks came his way. "Well, okay, you are a scientist. But that's not the point!"

"Quiet now, the lot of you. This is very sensitive work." Carefully, Beckett stirred into the beaker a handful of sparklely purple lumps. The mixture swirled a moment then gave an aromatic burp.

McKay blinked, watching. As the enticing aroma of peaches and cream wafted his way, curiosity decided to join the party. "Just what kind of bomb are you building, anyway?"

"McKay!" hissed Sheppard, none to softly, "You're not supposed to encourage him!"

"Nerve gas." Beckett ignored the interruption.

"WHAT?" squeaked McKay, stepping back several feet. Equally shocked, Sheppard and Bates had their guns up and pointed at Beckett.

"Now, now, lads. No need to panic. Its Wraith nerve gas. Doesn't affect humans a bit." He looked down, peering at the beaker. "At least I dinna think so." He shook the glass container some more, sniffing it.

Sheppard and Bates relaxed, but only slightly. McKay was still looking as if he really wanted to be anywhere else.

"Carson, I really think its a good idea if you put that stuff down and come with us. We'll get Biro to check you out. Again."

"A might crabbit, aren't you?"

"Crabbit?" McKay looked puzzled at the Scot's slang, then shook his head. "Never mind. Carson, come with us."

"Ehh, nae, lad. No need to fuss."

"Carson..."

"McKay, let me." Not having the patience for a long exchange when things were this bizarre, Sheppard took command. "Okay, Doctor Bomb-boy, uh, Beckett. No unauthorized explosions without prior approval. Let's get you home to your nice safe infirmary, all right?"

"Sorry, Major, but ye know I'll not be taking orders from ye." Beckett stepped back at Sheppard's approach, forcing the Major to make a grab for him.

The doctor was surprisingly nimble on his feet. Giving a quick side-step with a half spin and crouch, he avoided Sheppard's lunge for him. A light push, and Sheppard found himself stumbling back into the unprepared Bates.

McKay watched with distracted amusement as two of America's finest went down in an undignified tangle of arms and legs. The vocal accompaniment was impressive in its range and creativity.

"Excuse me folks, but I have to see a man about an iguana." With a jaunty wave, Beckett raced out the door.

"We've covered half of the damn city. Where the hell did he go?"

"We've covered less than five percent, actually. And how the hell should I know where he is. I am so not his babysitter."

"You really weren't helping, you know."

"And you were, Major Macho? Hell of a time to be taking dancing lessons."

"You're going to have to lure him out."

"ME?"

"Mad scientist. Building bombs. Explosions. Your fault. Yes, you."

The bait was easy to construct. The hard part was finding the prey. Well, ok, not so hard. Beckett must have been reading 'Becoming a Mad Scientist in Ten Easy Steps.'

Step seven: have a lair in a creepy location.

The chamber was cavernous. Well below water level, it was eerily lit by the shimmering depths visible through numerous transparent panels.

"Carson, there you are!" McKay grimaced as his voice echoed. Are..are..are. "I've been looking all over for you."

Beckett was taking grey globes of some sort from a haphazard pile massed against a tall stack of crates, tossing each sphere into a wheeled container. His lab coat had been lost somewhere and the dim lighting did absolutely nothing to mute the psychedelic splendor of that purple T-shirt. He paused, turning to look at McKay.

The physicist flinched. He had forgotten about those glasses...

"Rodney, its about time ye got here. How are ye going to help when ye keep disappearing?" Beckett held up one of the globes, grinning in triumph. "Look at what I found. Perfect for ka-beum."

...and that damned giggle. McKay flinched harder, fighting instinct to cover his ears. "Yes, yes. They look perfect." He shifted, bring something from behind his back. "Look, Carson. I brought something to help."

"Ye did?"

"Yes, I was giving a lot of thought to what you were doing." Seeing he had Beckett's interest piqued, McKay took a step closer, carefully and dramatically unwrapping one layer from the covered the bundle in his arms.

Intrigued, Beckett pulled off the glasses and stepped closer.

McKay took a step to the right, slowly unwrapping another layer.

Beckett followed.

Another step to the right. "Its a my Acme Bomb Intensi-Forcifier 3000. Just what you need to make the, uh, 'ka-beums' really spectacular."

"Really?"

"Really!"

"That's wonderful! Thank ye, Rodney! I knew you wouldn't let me down," Beckett was nearly bouncing in excitement.

Struggling to buy time, McKay continued the tease, unwrapping a third layer to show hard corners and the flicker of lights through the last layer of material. When he was sure Beckett's attention was entirely on the promised surprise, McKay risked a look over the Scot's shoulder.

He was relieved to see Sheppard pause mid-skulk to give a him a thumbs up, then motion forcefully for McKay to keep talking.

Giving in to childish temper, McKay scowled, sticking his tongue out at the Major.

He was gratified to see Sheppard's shocked expression and the mouthed "What?!". Then Sheppard's expression turned panicked.

McKay returned his attention to Beckett just in time. The doctor had reached out a hand to finish the unveiling.

"Carson!" A sharp slap had Beckett jumping back.

"Rodney! I just wanted to see!" Oh, no. Big blue puppy-dog eyes. "But if yer not goin' to help me..."

More frantic motioning from Sheppard.

"No, no, Carson. Of course I'm going to help." A quick tug and the Acme Bomb Intensi-Forcer 3000 was revealed in all its technological, psychological and, oh hell, totally illogical glory.

"Oh, its lovely." breathed Beckett.

McKay shoved the box at him. "Guaranteed to amplify, nay magnify! any explosion by five to the nil power squared."

"By that much?" Sounding impressed, Beckett cradled the box. "I like that." He paused, hand rubbing at his jaw as he considered. "How does it work?" He shook the box, smiling at the metallic rattle it produced.

"Well, first you..." Motion catching his eye, McKay glanced up to see Sheppard raise his stunner and take aim. "No! Not yet!" He mouthed.

"Rodney, what..." Beckett started to look around.

Sheppard fired.

Beckett stiffened as the pulse caught him, blue eyes confused as he tried to understand McKay's betrayal. "Rodney?"

Sheppard fired again. Beckett staggered, then slumped to the floor, the Acme Bomb Intensi-Forcer 3000 tumbling to the ground with a clatter.

McKay let him fall, glaring at Sheppard.

"Damn it, you almost hit me!"

"I missed, didn't I?"

"That's not the point!"

"Of course it is." Sheppard tossed the stunner to McKay. "Let's get him to the infirmary. Safety's on, by the way."

"Of course it is."

With a tug, several grunts, a few curses and Rodney's steadying hand, Sheppard managed to get Beckett slung over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. "Damn, he's heavy," he grunted as he shifted his burden. "Heigh ho, heigh ho, its off to the infirmary we go."

McKay watched Sheppard head for the transport, "Great. Voodoo to cure a mad scientist. Anyone want to ask me what's wrong with this picture." He glanced down and with a sharp kick, sent the Intensi-Forcifier 3000, sailing several feet before it smashed into a wall. The sound of destruction was quite satisfying as were the numerous pieces parts that resulted.

"Ka-beum."

"So you're sure you're okay?"

"Rodney, for the hundredth time yes! They've rerun the tests...three times, plus another time just to be sure. And they've kept me here for observation for two bloody days. If ye don't get out of my way so I can get out of here, I'll blow up!"

At McKay's expression, Beckett hastened to clarify before his friend could call in the med staff. "Loose my temper, Rodney. Loose my temper."

"Oh. Well you know you could have just said so."

"Rodney..."

"Right. Home."

Surprisingly, the walk was made in companionable silence. McKay paused at the door, peering at Carson. "So you're sure you're okay?"

Beckett sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "A good night's sleep in my own bed and I'll be right as rain."

Seeing the skepticism remain, he met McKay's gaze directly. "Rodney, I promise. No nocturnal jaunts to the chem labs. Besides," His expression turning chagrined as he held up his wrist to show off the silver-tone band encircling it. "Elizabeth has me under supervision for a few days. I can't wander off even if I wanted to."

A grin crept into McKay's expression. "She said she might do that."

"She's watching me like I was a wee lad!"

"A wee lad intent on destruction."

"Aye," Beckett sighed. "That I was."

"I'm impressed, Carson. I never knew you had it in you. Voodoo, yeah. But a life of crime? And just where did you get that T-shirt?"

"Rodney..."

"And those glasses?" McKay ignored the irritated warning in Beckett's voice.

"Rodney..." Beckett's voice rose.

Grinning suddenly, McKay clapped Beckett on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're all right."

"Thank you," Beckett returned the smile. "Good night, Rodney"

"Good night, Carson. See you at seven?"

"Aye." Beckett stepped into his room.

The door sliding closed between them, McKay paused, not sure he didn't hear a soft high pitched giggle ghosting around him.

That's all folks!


End file.
